I can’t remember the last time I had her wholehearted approval for something I legitimately accomplished, and it feels like sinking into a warm bath. “It kind of is, isn’t it?” I say. “I don’t think there’s anything superserious going on, because of Carlos and whatever, but she did say they have an open relationship, right? And I like her so much, and I think she really likes me.”
“I like her so much, too. Wait till I tell Dad! Or do you want to tell him yourself?”
“It’s okay, you can tell him.” I’m at the door of the scene shop now, and I see Russell approaching from across the lawn. “Listen, I’ve gotta go. My crew call is starting.”
“I’m proud of you, sweetheart,” my mom says. “You’ve always seemed so resistant to dating girls. Allerdale is really opening up your world, huh?”
“I guess. I’ll talk to you later, Mom. Give my love to everyone, okay? Tell Marisol and Christa I’ll call them soon.”
“I will. We love you back,” she says, and I hang up.
Russell catches up to me, looking bleary-eyed and rumpled. “It should be illegal to make us come to work this early after Pandemonium,” he says.
“Seriously. I hardly slept.” I feel wide awake, but I think I’m running on pure adrenaline.
“Did you know ducks sleep with half their brains at a time so they can always be on the lookout for predators?” Russell says. He rubs his eyes and runs his fingers through his hair, which makes it stick up in a million different directions. It doesn’t look like he washed it this morning.
“I did not know that about ducks, but it doesn’t surprise me that you do.” I reach up and pat him on the shoulder, and he gives me a weird look.
“What’s with you?” he asks.
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t know. You look so…happy. Nobody’s happy at nine in the morning.”
Part of me wants to tell him what happened with Zoe—I think he’d be pleased for me—but another larger part loves having a secret with her. So I say, “I am happy. I have a new niece and nephew! They were born last night.”
“Oh, wow. Wait, both at once?”
“Twins,” I tell him. “Jasmine and Owen. So cool. Come on; let’s go inside.” I link my arm through his. He looks a little bewildered by my enthusiasm, but he lets me tug him toward the theater.
I spend the entire morning painting escape stairs black, but I barely register the work in front of me. All I can see are Zoe’s eyes inches from my face, Zoe’s tattooed back under my fingers, Zoe’s hair sprawled across my sheets. A couple of times, I find myself singing without even realizing I’m doing it. At lunch time, I dash over to Haydu, where Zoe’s in Birdie rehearsal, and peer through the window of the dance studio. It seems insane that we’re both spending our days doing normal things like painting and learning choreography when such a seismic shift has occurred between us. I should be using this time to get food, but instead I wait outside the door for half an hour in case Zoe’s choreographer gives them a break. I send the universe an image of us sneaking off into a stairwell and murmuring about how perfect last night was. But the girls are still dancing when it’s time for me to go back to work.
I spend the afternoon replaying our kisses in my head until the memories are almost worn through. When the shop head releases me that evening, I’m out the door before Russell can even ask if I want to go to Sammy’s. I haven’t eaten in the dining hall in a week and a half, but my excitement about seeing Zoe eclipses all my awkward feelings about facing the other apprentices. The room is packed, but it takes me all of six seconds to spot her; having a crush on someone gives you serious tracking radar. Her table is full of people from the Birdie cast, including Kenji and Todd and Livvy, but at least Jessa’s not here.
Everyone looks a little surprised to see me when I approach with my food, but Zoe shoots me a radiant smile and makes everyone scoot down so she can pull up a chair for me. Even though I’ve been thinking about her the entire day, I don’t know how to act now that she’s right here. Is she going to kiss me in front of all these people? I’m not even sure if I want her to or not. I’m relieved when she opts for a hug instead, but the way our breasts and hips and cheeks press together makes my face flame. I pull away much sooner than I want to.
“Thank you for the doughnut,” Zoe whispers into my ear. “You are the sweetest.”